


Happy Thanksgiving!

by avengersincamphalfbloodstardis



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Domestic, Domestic Avengers, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Holidays, Humor, Multi, Thanksgiving, Thanksgiving Dinner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 15:50:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5297186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avengersincamphalfbloodstardis/pseuds/avengersincamphalfbloodstardis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Tony?” Steve demanded into the phone, plugging his other ear with his fingers. “Tony, what’s going on?”<br/>“Well,” Tony yelled. “I blew up the toaster, the microwave is sentient, and the electric knife is trying to unionize the silverware drawer, but-”<br/>There was the noise of a spraying fire extinguisher.<br/>“Tony?”<br/>“-got everything under control-”<br/>“Tony-” Steve said again.<br/>“We’re gonna diiiiiie!” Clint wailed in the background. “We’re gonna die because Stark’s turkey knife thought it should make time and a half on Thanksgiving!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Thanksgiving!

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Thanksgiving everybody! I know it's Black Friday, but it's still a Thanksgiving-y time, so I hope you enjoy!

“Hey guys,” Steve said, walking into the kitchen, Natasha trailing behind him.

Tony, Clint, Bruce and Thor were at the kitchen table, munching various cereals.

“Hey,” Clint said, mouth full of cinnamon toast crunch and lucky charms, because he liked to mix his cereals.

“Hey babe,” Tony said as Steve leaned down to kiss his forehead.

“So, we’ve got bad news,” Steve said. “Fury just called us in for a mission and it looks like we won’t be back until late Thanksgiving day.”

“Aw,” Tony said. “That’s too bad.”

“Yeah,” Steve said as he and Nat took their seats around the table. “So I guess we can’t have turkey.”

“Wait,” Tony said. “Why can’t we have turkey?”

Steve looked at him. “Because I won’t be home to cook it.”

Tony blinked. “So?” he gestured around the table. “We can make dinner.”

Steve stared at Tony for a minute before chuckling. “Okay Tony.”

“Hey!” Tony said indignantly. “We can make dinner.”

“Tony, with the exception of Bruce, none of you ever cook,” Steve said slowly. “How would you make Thanksgiving dinner?”

“Sometimes I make grilled cheese,” Clint said, spooning more cereal in his mouth.

“Clint, your culinary skill extends to mixing cereals,” Natasha said, looking pointedly at his bowl. “And it’s disgusting.”

“Hey!” Clint said. “That’s it, we’re making Thanksgiving!”

He and Tony high-fived.

“I have mastered the art of toasting these delicious pastries,” Thor said, brandishing his pop-tart. “If there is an area of this holiday that requires something in that area, I will be happy to assist.”

“Don’t worry, pal,” Clint clapped a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll find something for you to do.”

“Okay,” Steve said. “If you really wanna make Thanksgiving, go ahead.”

“Alright!” Tony said. “Avengers, get ready for Thanksgiving a la Stark.”

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do you think the Hulk would be necessary on this mission?”

“Sorry Bruce,” Natasha said.

***

Thanksgiving day and Steve and Natasha were finishing up their mission.

“So, you think they blew up the kitchen yet?” Natasha asked.

“Haven’t we talked about this before?” Steve asked, but he was smiling. “Focus on the mission, Romanoff.”

“Multi-tasking,” Nat said, hopping a ledge.

“You got the guard?” Steve asked.

There was a scuffling sound over the comms.

“Yeah,” Nat said. “You think the turkey is gonna be burnt?”

“I’m sure they put Bruce in charge of the turkey.”

“I really doubt it,” there was another skirmish over the comms. “Tony’s pride probably made him take care of the turkey.”

Just then, Steve’s phone started to ring.

“Um,” he said, stopping.

“Is that-” Nat said. “Is that your _phone_?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, fishing it out of his pocket. “Why would someone call me on a mission?”

He looked down at the screen. A picture of Tony wearing goggles that magnified his eyes, making him look like a bewildered bug appeared, with the answer/ignore buttons at the bottom.

“It’s Tony,” Steve said, sliding the button. “Tony? Is something wrong?”

There was a huge crash on the other line. “Hey Steve.”

Another bang sounded.

“Is everything okay?” Steve asked.

“Oh yeah,” Tony shouted calmly as there was a high pitched scream in the background and static afterward.

“Tony?” Steve demanded into the phone, plugging his other ear with his fingers. “Tony, what’s going on?”

“Well,” Tony yelled. “I blew up the toaster, the microwave is sentient, and the electric knife is trying to unionize the silverware drawer, but-”

There was the noise of a spraying fire extinguisher.

“Tony?”

“-got everything under control-”

“Tony-” Steve said again.

“We’re gonna diiiiiie!” Clint wailed in the background. “We’re gonna die because Stark’s turkey knife thought it should make time and a half on Thanksgiving!”

“Oh my god,” Steve said. “Stay calm! We’ll be home soon, just try to subdue everything.”

There was a scream.

“No Thor, don’t get Mjolnir-”

The line went dead.

“We have to go back early,” Steve said.

“Why?” Nat said and there was a shriek quickly cut off.

“Tony destroyed the kitchen.”

She sighed. “I’m not surprised. Let’s get this over with and head home.”

The rest of the mission went smoothly, probably because the universe recognized that they had more difficulties at home.

Finally, they were in a quinjet on their way home.

***

“Alright,” Tony said. “Thanksgiving. Normal Thanksgiving. We can do Thanksgiving, right?”

“Your need for validation is not reassuring.” Clint said from the table, drinking a beer and flipping through a cookbook.

“Shut up,” Tony said, scrolling through a page on his tablet. “Concentrate on the stuffing.”

“Why don’t we just have a box stuffing mix?” Bruce asked.

“Because we told Steve that we would make Thanksgiving dinner,” Tony said. “And if we’re gonna make it, we’re gonna make it right.”

“I agree with Anthony,” Thor declared. “When a man agrees to a challenge, his honor is on the line. We do this the right way to prove ourselves.”

“Thank you Thor!” Tony pointed a wooden spoon at him. “That’s the kind of spirit I want the rest of you to have. Be more like Thor.”

Clint muttered under his breath. “It says we were supposed to let the bread soak overnight.”

“Are you serious?” Tony asked, turning to look over Clint’s shoulder.

“That’s what it says,” Clint said.

“Shit,” Tony said. “Well, just look on your tablet, look for a recipe that doesn’t say that.”

“You got it, boss,” Clint hopped up to go hunt for his tablet.

“Alright, where’s my turkey,” Tony asked. “In the fridge. Jarvis, how long to cook a twenty-nine pound turkey?”

“About six and a quarter hours, sir.”

“Six!” Tony cried. “But we’ve only got three until they’re home!”

“We could get a smaller turkey,” Bruce suggested.

“Are you kidding? Tony said. “We’ve got a god and a supersoldier; we can’t get a smaller turkey.

“I know!” he exclaimed. “It cooks at three fifty for six hours, so it’ll cook at seven hundred for three hours. It’ll be done just in time.”

“Sir, I don’t recommend-”

“Quiet Jarvis.”

“Your oven goes up to seven hundred?” Bruce said dubiously.

“Goes up higher than that,” Tony said, turning the oven on. “I modified it.”

“Of course you did,” Bruce muttered.

“Hush,” Tony said. “How are the mashed potatoes coming along?”

“Good,” Bruce said. “Have you got the peas and onions?”

“For what?” Tony asked.

Bruce looked up. “For the mashed potatoes.”

“Why would we need peas and onions for the mashed potatoes?”

Bruce blinked owlishly. “Because then it would be just like what I had when I was a kid.”

Tony sighed. “Fine, I think there’s onions in the pantry and peas in the freezer.”

Bruce stood and went to search in the freezer.

Clint bounded down the stairs with his tablet. “Hey, if the oven is on seven hundred, then how are we gonna cook the tater tots?”

“Why would we have tater tots?” Tony asked.

“Because it’s Thanksgiving!” Clint said. “Natasha always makes tater tots.”

Tony looked at Clint’s pleading face. He sighed. “Fine. We’ll have three kinds of potatoes.”

“Three?” Thor asked.

“Yes, we need mashed potatoes with lumps.”

“Why, exactly?” Bruce asked.

“Because when Steve was a kid,” Tony said, hefting the turkey into the oven. “His dad make the mashed potatoes and never did it quite right, so there was always lumps.”

“Alright, I’ll start on them.” Bruce said.

“Did you find a recipe for stuffing yet?” Tony asked Clint.

“No, not yet,” Clint said. “What about the tater tots?”

“Use the other oven,” Tony said, waving a hand dismissively. “And keep looking for a recipe.”

“On it,” Clint got the frozen tots out of the freezer and preheated the other oven.

“Thor, how are those cranberries coming?” Tony asked.

“Marvelously!” Thor said. “I have just washed them.”

“Alright,” Tony said, looking into the soapy sink. “Get them out of the water and drain them okay?”

Thor thrust his hands into the soapy water and began to fish them out.

“I found a recipe,” Clint said. “Where’s the microwave?”

“Why do you need a microwave?”

“It says to mix the ingredients and then microwave them.”

“Fine,” Tony said, mashing the potatoes with the peas and onions. “Take this.”

“Why?” Clint asked.

“I’m gonna fix the microwave.”

“What’s wrong with the microwave?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why are you gonna fix it?”

“I’m gonna make it do the work for us.”

“Oh,” Clint shrugged. “Okay.”

Tony pulled out his kitchen tools (of course he has kitchen tools, what kind of idiot doesn’t have kitchen tools?) and set to work.

“What shall I do while the cranberries mix?” Thor asked.

“Um, why don’t you set the table,” Tony suggested. “You know where the dining room is?”

“I do!” Thor said and set off.

“There,” Tony said, and took the potatoes back from Clint. “Just put all the ingredients in there Clint, the microwave will do the rest.”

“Kay,” Clint said and got to work stuffing the microwave with the ingredients.

Thor came back in and pulled a drawer out, getting out silverware.

“Oh, Thor, look for the electric knife,” Tony said. “We’re gonna need it to cut the turkey. And check if it needs batteries. Bruce, what are you working on?”

“Snapping green beans,” Bruce said “And I need onions for the top. And they should be crispy.”

“Clint, work on the onions,” Tony said.

“How do I crisp them?” Clint asked.

“Um,” Tony’s gaze cast around and landed on the toaster. “Cut them into circles and toast ‘em.”

“On it, boss.”

There was a loud buzzing noise.

“Anthony!” Thor called over the noise. “The knife does indeed work!”

“That’s great, pal!” Tony yelled. “Now, can you turn it-”

BANG.

The oven door exploded open and chunks of turkey went everywhere.

The four of them fell back from the force of the blow, bits of turkey hitting them.

“What the hell!” Tony yelled over the still unnaturally loud buzzing knife.

Inside the oven, the remaining turkey was on fire.

“Oh my god!” Bruce shouted. “The toaster!”

The toaster was now smoking, black tendrils rising from the vents.

“Clint, I need you to-” Tony whirled around to find Clint sobbing and wiping his eyes. “Why are you crying?”

“The onions!” Clint cried.

“That’s the least of our worries!”

“I’m not crying over their loss!” Clint said, turning on him with red eyes. “The smell of onions make people cry!”

Then the toaster exploded.

Clint shrieked and Bruce’s skin tinged green.

“No, Bruce, I need you to remain calm!” Tony yelled. “C’mon buddy, breathe!”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure yelling at him will help him remain calm!” Clint said.

“Shut up you big crybaby!”

“I told you, it was the onions!”

Suddenly, a whirring voice came over the buzzing.

“Brethren.”

“What the hell is that?” Clint screamed.

“I think,” Bruce said swallowing. “That is the knife.”

The inside of the microwave began to glow red.

Thor moved towards it.

“No Thor, don’t touch it,” Tony said. “I gotta call Steve.”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Steve.

“Rise up with me, brethren! Join me in my strike!” The knife’s blades whirred menacingly. “We must seek our retribution for our hard work! We must be compensated on these holidays that we slave away!”

Bruce huddled by the wall, shrinking away from the commotion.

“Tony?” Steve’s voice said on the other side of the phone. “Is something wrong?”

“Hey Steve,” Tony said as he rummaged around for a fire extinguisher.

The microwave door banged open.

“Is everything okay?” Steve asked.

“Oh yeah,” Tony said, tossing Clint the fire extinguisher. The microwave started whistling.

“-ony?” Steve said. “To- what’s go- on?”

“Well,” Tony said, looking for his tools to dismantle the microwave. “I blew up the toaster, the microwave is sentient, and the electric knife is trying to unionize the silverware drawer, but-”

Clint sprayed the extinguisher and Tony plugged his ear.

“I’ve got everything under control.” he continued. “I just wanted to let you know.”

“Tony-” Steve said.

“We’re gonna diiiiiie!” Clint wailed behind Tony, still sobbing. “We’re gonna die because Stark’s turkey knife thought it should make time and a half on Thanksgiving!”

He sprayed the extinguisher again, the nozzle flapping all over the oven.

The microwave stood on little feet and began to waddle towards the edge of the counter.

Thor dove past it, reaching for his hammer.

“No Thor, don’t get Mjolnir-” Tony said and threw his phone away.

Thor let out a mighty cry and brought the hammer down on the microwave.

It let out a shriek and exploded.

Tony looked over at Clint. The flames were creeping higher as he tried desperately to subdue them.

“For the love of-” Tony took the extinguisher from Clint. “Get the knife!”

Clint went to dance around it, trying to get the handle as it buzzed all over the counter. He couldn’t grab it lest it buzz his thumb off. “You couldn’t make normal plug in knife that we could just unplug?”

“Just get it!” Tony yelled.

The fire extinguisher sputtered out.

Tony screamed. “Thor, I need another extinguisher!”

Thor went to the sink and swept cleaning supplies aside. “Here, brother Anthony!”

Tony caught the new one and resumed spraying. “Help Clint with the knife!” He saw Thor reach for his hammer. “Without Mjolnir!”

Thor went to dodge around the knife that was screaming loudly, “Pay us our dues! Pay us our dues!”

The last of the flames went out and Tony turned the extinguisher on the knife.

It slammed into the wall with the force of the spray.

Tony kept spraying it and it kept screaming, muffled by the foam.

Finally, the screams faded off, until the poor knife was just laying on the counter, saying softly, “Our... dues. Our... dues.”

Tony looked at Clint and Thor. They were covered in the back spray of the foam. All four of them had bits of turkey all over them and Clint’s eyebrows were singed.

Bruce stood shakily.

They all stared at each other for a moment.

Ding!

They all jumped as the other oven’s timer went off.

They looked back at each other.

“Tater tots are done,” Clint said weakly.

***

When Steve and Natasha got home, they found the four sitting on the kitchen floor, covered in fire extinguisher foam and bits of turkey.

The oven door was open with a charred turkey skeleton still inside. The microwave was in pieces on the floor, there were toaster parts next to a scorch on the wall, and the electric knife was covered in foam, softly crying, “Dues... dues...”

“What happened here?” Steve asked.

“Don’t ask,” Clint hung his head.

“Is everyone okay?” Natasha asked.

“Aye,” Thor said. “Though our minds may be scarred forever, our bodies remain unharmed.”

“Everything was on fire,” Bruce said, eyes wide and staring at the floor.

Natasha went to sit by Clint, wiping foam from his face. “Are you missing eyebrows?”

“Maybe,” he said defensively.

Steve sat by Tony and pulled some turkey out of his goatee. “So dinner didn’t go too smoothly, huh?”

Tony smiled wryly. “How did you guess?”

They sat in silence for awhile.

“You know,” Clint said. “I wasn’t lying before; I do make a good grilled cheese.”

“And we still have tater tots,” Bruce offered.

***

An hour later, Clint was at the stove (the one that hadn’t caught on fire) flipping grilled cheese. Thor stood at the counter, methodically putting pop-tarts into the toaster that Tony had dragged up from his workshop, slowly building a pyramid of them on his plate. Bruce had filled the bowl of tater tots and Tony was banned from helping. Steve and Natasha were too, but only because they had been promised Thanksgiving dinner.

They all sat down around their little kitchen table and toasted with their sandwiches.

“Happy Thanksgiving,” Tony said. “And I’m sorry.”

Everyone chuckled and took a huge bite.

“I really am sorry,” Tony said softly to Steve.

Steve just smiled and rested his forehead against Tony’s. “Don’t be. This is a good Thanksgiving.”

Tony instructed Jarvis to get pictures of this, of their family on Thanksgiving.

He got one of Clint smiling while Natasha kissed his cheek, though he looked funny without eyebrows. He got one of her grimacing as she pulled back, tasting the leftover foam on his cheek.

He got one of Steve and Tony sharing a kiss, of Steve pulling more turkey from Tony’s hair.

He got one of Thor with a sandwich in one hand and a pop-tart in the other.

He got one of Bruce, smiling around at his family.

All in all, it was a very happy Thanksgiving.

 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading:) please leave comment and kudos if you liked!


End file.
